The Stolen Heir’s Bond

Elaria woke to the cold bite of iron around her wrists.

Her head throbbed, and her vision swam as she blinked against the dim firelight. It took her a moment to register where she was—inside a tent, the fabric rippling with the wind. The air smelled of damp earth and smoke.

She tried to move, but the chains rattled, holding her in place.

Not just iron. Bounded iron.

A curse slipped from her lips. No wonder her magic felt muted, like a candle smothered under glass. Someone had paid a fortune for shackles like these.

"She's awake."

The voice came from across the tent. Elaria turned her head too fast, sending another spike of pain through her skull.

Kael sat opposite her, bound the same way, though he didn't seem nearly as dazed. His golden eyes were sharp, scanning their surroundings, already searching for weaknesses.

"Where are we?" she murmured.

Kael exhaled slowly. "Captured. Again."

Elaria swallowed a groan and forced herself upright. Her side ached where the dagger had cut her, but the wound had been wrapped—poorly. They wanted her alive. That was… something.

The tent flap rustled, and the scarred hunter strode in. His bow was gone, replaced by a dagger strapped at his hip. He crouched between them, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You fetch a high price, witch," he said, eyes gleaming. "Twice what we'd get for the prince."

Elaria kept her face blank, but Kael went rigid beside her.

"They weren't after you," she murmured, more to herself than him.

Kael's expression darkened. He hadn't realized it either.

The hunter smirked. "Varos wants him dead. But you? Someone out there wants you breathing."

Elaria's stomach twisted. That was worse.

Because there were only a few kinds of people who would go to this much trouble to capture a witch.

And none of them meant well.

She forced herself to meet the hunter's gaze. "Who hired you?"

The man tilted his head, amused. "What makes you think I'd tell you?"

Elaria gave him a slow, cold smile. "Because if I don't know who's paying for my life, I won't know what I'm worth. And if I don't know what I'm worth…" She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. "How will I know what price to offer you instead?"

The hunter chuckled, standing. "Nice try." He turned for the exit, then paused. "We ride at dawn. Enjoy your last night of freedom."

The tent flap snapped shut behind him.

Silence.

Elaria let out a slow breath. Think. They were chained, surrounded by bounty hunters, and at least one powerful figure wanted her alive.

They had to escape.

She glanced at Kael. He was watching her, his golden eyes unreadable.

Then he smirked. "You really were planning to bribe him, weren't you?"

Elaria rolled her eyes. "I was planning to buy us time."

Kael leaned back against the tent wall. "Clever." Then, quieter, "Can you break the shackles?"

Elaria hesitated. Magic-dampening iron wasn't impossible to break, but it was dangerous. If she used too much power, she'd leave a trace that anyone tracking her magic could follow.

And if whoever wanted her alive had the resources to hire bounty hunters, they'd also have the means to track her.

But what choice did she have?

She met Kael's gaze. "If I break the chains, you need to be ready to fight."

His smirk widened. "I was born ready."

Elaria exhaled. "Let's hope you were also born lucky."

Then, closing her eyes, she reached for the sliver of magic still burning inside her—and unleashed it.